I Listed My Hubby’s “Use” On Thrift App

Chapter 4 Time to Turn the Tables

I sat at home icing my forehead on the second weekend after my suspension.

The dark bruise had faded only partially, capped with a thin layer of dried scab.

A sudden loud drilling noise echoed from outside the front door.

A steady, droning buzz cut through the quiet. Someone was breaking into my place.

I hurried over to check, and half the door lock was already pried loose.

A locksmith knelt on the floor to finish the job. Behind him stood Randal alongside three burly men with dyed blond hair and cigarettes hanging from their lips.

Peggy linked her arm through Randal's, dressed in a maternity dress and carrying an obvious baby bump. She frowned while eyeing the hallway walls. "This corridor's run-down, Randal. We'll need to remodel it later on."

The lock cylinder clicked free, and the front door swung fully open.

Randal strutted right inside, followed closely by the three men. Mud smudges from their shoes marked the floor in ugly, obvious streaks.

He pulled a stack of papers from his pocket and slammed them down onto the coffee table. "Divorce petition and settlement papers. Sign them."

I picked up the paperwork to flip through.

The terms demanded that I leave the house with nothing. The marital home would transfer fully to Randal to cover his claimed emotional damages.

My parents put in four hundred and fifty thousand dollars toward the home's six-hundred-thousand-dollar down payment, and I covered the remaining one hundred and fifty thousand dollars myself.

Randal had not spent a single cent on the property.

"Whose name is on the house deed?" Randal slouched back on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other. "It's marital shared property. Do you know anything about the law?"

More footsteps sounded from the hallway moments later.

Helen bustled inside looking lively and healthy, no trace of the heart trouble she'd faked before.

She hurried straight to Peggy, grasped her hands, and stared down at her pregnant belly, grinning ear to ear. "Perfect! That pointed belly means a baby boy for sure. The Roper finally gets an heir!"

Her smile vanished the second she turned toward me. "You useless woman who can't bear kids. Get out immediately and give this house over to Peggy."

Peggy stroked her stomach with a sweet, innocent smile. "Queenie, this home feels great for my pregnancy. I hope you're generous enough to let us stay here."

Randal tossed a signal toward the three hired men.

They jumped into action right away.

They ripped every piece of clothing out of my closet, hangers and all, and tossed everything out into the hallway. My makeup, books, and framed photos got swept onto the floor and then stomped hard under their boots.

Clothes littered the space from the bedroom all the way out to the hallway, and the mess took less than three minutes to make.

"Randal," I said, trapped in a tight corner by the doorway.

He rose to his feet and stepped up in front of me, staring down at me.

"Queenie, you don't have to sign the divorce." He flicked a speck of dirt off my shoulder with a smug grin. "You could stay here instead and work as our unpaid maid to look after Peggy after she gives birth. What do you say?"

Peggy covered her mouth and giggled on the couch.

Helen clapped her hands in approval beside her.

The three men leaned against the wall with their cigarettes, casually watching the whole show.

I fixed my gaze on Randal's face.

I had looked at that exact face every single day for ten long years.

It was finally time to turn the tables.